


Till death do us part

by Angel_Wings14



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Boys Kissing, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Penny see all, Rated for swearing, Sharing a Bed, and they were ROOMMATES
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24878734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angel_Wings14/pseuds/Angel_Wings14
Summary: Simon and Baz are arguing, what's new?Except in the heat of the moment, Simon accidentally puts a marriage spell on them. Can these idiots figure out how to break the bonds of marriage (quite literally) before the Mage finds out?
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 14
Kudos: 256





	Till death do us part

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic - I was inspired on Simon's solstice birthday so I figured I would share it with you all.  
> I hope you enjoy this silly piece of fluff :)

_Simon_

I knew Baz was up to something the moment I walked into the room. Yes, admittedly I had burst in loudly and unannounced with the intention of making him jump, but I hadn’t expected him to quickly turn and shove whatever was in his hand down the side of his mattress. But I was itching for a fight and this was perfect.

“What was that?” I ask, gesturing to the wall he’s sitting against nonchalantly. Maybe it was a weapon, one that he couldn’t use just yet. The roommate anathema was still in place, he wouldn’t want to get expelled just for killing me. Baz was always rubbing it in my face that he was top of the class. I would always argue Penny was, but honestly it was a close race between them.

“What was what?” he replies, a cool smirk pulling up the corner of his mouth. (I know he knows what I’m talking about).

“The - the – thing!” I take a step towards him, still gesturing wildly. He doesn’t react except to subtly press further back into the wall, using his body to cover up whatever he is hiding there. “The thing you’re hiding!”

He raises an eyebrow at me. He knows it makes me mad when he does that. He looks so cool and collected, and I feel one wrong word from going off. I have no idea how he stays so impassive when we fight.

“I’m not hiding anything.”

He raises both his hands, as if in surrender, but his steely eyes glint with the challenge.

“That’s it.”

_Baz_

He lunges for me.

I have no idea what has gotten into him today, it usually takes more than a few words for him to go for me like that. But instead of his fist hitting me, it brushes past my ribs and dives down into the space where I’ve just stashed my journal. It would be funny if it wasn’t so embarrassing. I saw Snow go off with Wellbelove after dinner and assumed I would have a little more time to myself. The fact that he burst in on me waxing poetic about him, about how I wish it was my hand he was holding, pulling me out into the moonlight (I sicken myself sometimes) was just the icing on the cake. But I can’t let him get his grubby hands on that book, so I push back, hands on his oh-so-solid chest, shoving him away.

“Anathema!” he squawks, stumbling backwards slightly, face still crumpled in demented determination.

“Self-defence.” I retort. He started it after all. I don’t think he’s listening though because he comes for me again. I heave myself up bodily, ready to put myself in his way before he can reach the wall again.

He pauses an inch from my face. I can feel the heat from his magic pouring off of him, catching in the back of my throat like cloying smoke, but I won’t back down.

“Is it a weapon?” he asks, his breath brushing across my throat as he glares up at me. I love the fact he has to look up, it makes his chin jut out. I want to bite it. (Not in a vampire way, just because). But the question throws me a little and it must show on my face. He gets the wrong impression from my reaction. “It is! Crowley, you brought a weapon back here?”

“No! Why would I- “ I start.

He cuts me off, “It’s another forbidden artefact isn’t it? Like when you tried to steal my voice!” He is getting more worked up, blood flushing the sides of his neck, pulse thudding audibly in my sensitive ears. “Merlin, why – you’re such a prick! Well you can’t, you’d be expelled, and – and – “

“Maybe I just want to shut you up for once, you stuttering buffoon.” It’s not my best line, but it does stop his tirade and make him stammer over a few sounds before huffing in frustration. I feel my face breaking into a smirk again as I regain the upper hand. He really is beautiful when he’s angry. And he’s still so close to me.

_Simon_

He makes me so mad I can’t speak.

I can hear the Mage in the back of my head telling me to use my words, but arguing with Baz constantly feels like someone has cast **Cat got your tongue**.

“Well you’d like that wouldn’t you?” I finally spit out.

“What I would like,” Baz enunciates slowly, as if for a child. “Is for you to get out of my face.” Even as he says this though he leans in, threateningly. My eyes flicker over his face but I can’t get a read on him. (My eyes don’t linger on his lips a second longer). (They don’t).

Then I decide to do something stupid. Which, I mean, is just what I do when people threaten me. Penny says it’s because I have a death wish but really I just don’t want Baz to win. So instead of backing down I step impossibly closer.

“Make me.”

I see something flash across his face, almost imperceptibly, before it once again hardens. He doesn’t move away.

“I knew you were obsessed with me, Snow, but this is taking things to a new level.”

“Obsessed?” I grate out, harshly.

“Are you going to start stalking me again?” he mocks, head tilting so his hair brushes lightly over my cheek. It stirs up the air so all I can smell is him, cedar and bergamot. “Merlin and Morgana, I’ll never be rid of you will I?”

I snort sarcastically. He’d have to kill me first so I drawl out “No, never, **till death do us part**.”

_Baz_

I feel the weight of magic in his words, and I lean into the heady rush of it. My finger tips trace the back of his hand, barely touching, but it is enough for the magic of the words to take hold. A ribbon of light snakes around our hands, too fast for us to react, to move away, and binds them together tightly.

I can see Snow panic, his nostrils flaring.

He tries to tug his hand away but his magic is strong.

“What did you do?” I spit out at him from behind clenched teeth. A look of bewilderment overtook his face. He could never hide his emotions, but now being so close it was too easy to see what he was feeling.

“I – I –“ he stammered.

“Did you just put a fucking MARRIAGE SPELL on us?” I could feel my anger at his incompetence starting to boil over. I could hit him. (I could kiss him). But instead of rising to meet my ire like he usually does, Snow cowers away. He’s still futilely pulling at my hand, his breath coming in short pants, eyes bulging.

Oh Crowley he’s going to hyperventilate. And I can feel his magic building again, making the air static.

“Snow, calm down.” I order. It doesn’t seem to get through.

“Snow.”

I clasp our joined hands with my free one.

“SNOW.”

His other hand has joined in too, wrenching at my wrist in a way that would be painful if not for my _enhancements_. As it was the heat from his hand felt like it was burning me anyway. Crowley, he ran hot.

I try a different tact. “Simon,” I say softly. His eyes snap up to mine. It worked.

“Simon,” I try again. “Calm down, it’s ok. We’ll fix it.”

“How?” He grates out.

That stumps me though. Till death do us part was pretty common in marriage vows but I had no idea what words would help to separate us.

“I need my wand,” I declare, reaching awkwardly with one hand to where my wand rests on the bedside table. After fumbling for it for a few seconds, the angle not quite right for me to get a good grip right away, I straighten up.

I tap our bound hands.

“ **As you were**.”

Nothing.

“ **Parting is such sweet sorrow**.”

“ **Make a wish**.”

All the spells just fizzled out. The magical ribbon that binds our hands is no longer glowing, but each spell makes it shimmer and, even as that fades the ribbon is still faintly visible, distorting the light as if it is made of water. Hm water.

“ **Like the parting of the Red Sea.”**

That should have worked! A Bible verse is powerful magic. I can’t believe my eyes as the ribbon just ripples and solidifies further over our hands.

Snow is just standing there, watching all of this dejectedly.

“You could help you know,” I sneer at him. I’ve been nice to him once today and that’s enough.

He looks up at me with his slow cow-like eyes. “I don’t know where my wand is,” he mumbles.

“You don’t know whe- “ I cut myself off. He doesn’t know where his wand is. Of fucking course he doesn’t, he’s the worse wizard to ever grace the halls of this once proud institution.

Another thought hits me then. _He doesn’t have his wand on him._ That means this spell, this powerful binding spell, was done with out it. He is so powerful and it’s wasted on a boy who _doesn’t even remember where her put his wand_. It makes me see red.

I pinch my nose and try to breath, but it comes out as an exasperated sigh. Why do I love this idiot? Just as I am attempting to formulate a plan that does not involve telling the Mage about our apparent accidental hand-fasting, Snow interrupts my thoughts.

“We should get Penny,” he says.

Of course that’s his answer, run to the girl-wonder whenever things get even the slightest bit difficult. But then again, she is second in our class (and if I’m honest with myself in some she’s first) and two heads are better than one.

“Fine,” I sigh.

Snow is still looking at me like a lost dog, so I pull him to the window and summon a bird to send a message to Bunce. I assume she’ll have no problem getting to us, given the amount of times I’ve come back to our room smelling of her. I can only hope she arrives before we kill each other.

Bunce really does turn up just on time.

Snow, in some weird masochistic turn of events, decided the best way to break our bond is to cut it with the sword of mages. He has it held awkwardly in his left hand, up close to his ear so the point can rest against our hands. I had, of course, vehemently protested this course of action, but he was determinedly barrelling on, so the only option left to me was to turn my face away and hold very still.

Fortunately we will never find out how that one would have played out, because there comes a thudding at the door. Snow drops the sword with a start and it’s only my reflexes that stop us from losing our hands.

We both go to the door, me trailing slightly behind Snow arms held unnaturally between us.

Just as we reach the door, it bursts open for the second time this evening.

“Simon!” Bunce exhales in relief. “Are you … ok …”

She trails off, clearly out of breath, as she takes in our clasped hands. Her eyes switch between both our faces and our hands in quick succession before settling back on Snow.

_Simon_

I have never been so glad to see Penny in my whole life, and that really is saying something.

I can see her looking at mine and Baz’s bund hands and I fight the urge to move my body into her line of sight to hide them. But this is Penny and she’s seen the unfortunate by-products of my out of control magic before.

“I’m fine, Penny,” I reassure her. I have no idea what Baz put in his note to make her worry like that, but it was probably something terrible, the dick. “I just…”  
I trail off, I have no idea how to explain this situation to her. Baz seems to take pity on me and steps forward.

“Snow has spelled our hands together and now we can’t get them apart,” he explains, his aloof demeanour back despite the fact I saw him cringing away from my sword a minute ago, the coward. I wouldn’t hurt us with it, I had everything under control. I notice he doesn’t say anything about the fact I accidently spelled us together with a marriage vow, but I’m sure it’ll come out eventually.

As if to prove my point the next words out of Penny’s mouth were “what spell did he use exactly? I can’t help if I don’t know what did this.”

I step aside and gesture for her to come in, this really wasn’t the conversation to be having in a doorway. She has to brush past Baz to get all the way in, but it doesn’t seem to bother her.

Once inside she conjures up her magical chalkboard, waving her ring in the air to write up the columns like she always does when we are faced with a problem. Under the “what we know” heading she has already written “hands tied” and “Simon’s magic”, and under “what we don’t know” is “how to get them apart”. She is frighteningly efficient when it comes to things like this, but that is probably from years of practise being friends with me.

She turns her eyes expectantly on me. “Well?” She asks.

It’s Baz who answers again. With a hint of derision he tells her I cast **till death do us part**.

I watch as her face transforms with horror. It’s that face that starts the panic welling up again.

“Why would you do that, Simon?” she asks, aghast. I shake my head wordlessly. I try to hold my hands out to her in a plea for help, but all it does is serve to remind me that one is currently unavailable. I look down at my right hand in despair.

I can vaguely hear Penny is still chewing me out for being so irresponsible and had I learnt nothing from our magical words classes, but I can’t hear her over the roar of shame and humiliation and, most of all, sheer panic that flood me all over again.

“Simon.”

It is Baz’s voice that cuts through my haze. He’s speaking softly again.

“Stop panicking, we’re figuring it out.”

I look up at him and feel the fear recede. He’s right, and this isn’t helping. I turn back to Penny but she’s quiet again and looking between us, a peculiar expression on her face.

“Well Pen, what do we do?” I ask. She takes a moment, mapping out my face with a slight furrow between her eyes, before bustling back into action.

In the following half an hour, Penny and Baz have discussed what he’s already tried and what else might work. Penny was very surprised when she heard the bible verse Baz had tried earlier hadn’t done anything.

“Nicks and slick, this must be powerful magic. And you say it was _wandless_?” she had said, eyes bugging out a little. It just made me feel worse.

They try all sorts of random phrases to do with separation: **the parting of ways** , **two roads diverged in a wood** , **go your own way** , **separate the wheat from the chaff**. None of them worked, and the bond feels just as strong as ever. Penny eventually throws her hands up in exasperation and says she can’t spell any more tonight.

We make plans to go to the library tomorrow to look up marriage magic after breakfast. Just as she’s leaving she turns to me as says “Don’t worry, Simon, I’ll help you figure this out. Well the magic at least,” and she smirks as she gestures at me and Baz. “The rest I’ll leave to you. Goodnight, and goodnight Baz.” She throws over my shoulder.

I turn to Baz as the door shuts behind her.

“Oh God she’s right. How are we going to sleep?!”

_Baz_

He curses like a Normal when he’s stressed. He makes a good point, we are going to have to figure out how to sleep, but the memory of Bunce’s knowing smirk makes me think that’s not what she meant by figuring out the rest of it.

I put it to the back of my mind though, as I turn to survey the room. Given the way our hands are tied and the positions of our beds, we’ll still be able to stay on our own sides, thank small mercies, but we will have to push the beds together a bit. I tell Simon this much and he nods along like a dog in a car window and then looks at me expectantly.

“Well?” he says. “Are you going to spell them together?”

I roll my eyes at him. Why was it always up to me? Oh yes, because he was a world-class idiot who lost his wand and was just as likely to set our beds on fire as move them together.

“Unlike some people _,_ ” I drawl, “I do not have an unlimited supply of magic from which to draw and _unlike some people,_ I have been using magic to fix your fuck up.”

He just blinks at me slowly.

“Ok,” he says. Then I feel the grip shifting in my left hand before a surge of magic fills my arm and spreads across my body. I gasp aloud, nerve endings singing in anticipation of the endless possibilities. Snow’s face splits into a dopey grin at my reaction. Instead of dignifying him with a response, I turn back to the beds.

“ **Shove off!** ” I intone, and the beds shunt together, wooden frames creaking as they collide. I hadn’t meant for them to move with such force, but Snow’s magic was heady and powerful. I can taste it now on the back of my tongue, sweet and smoky, like he’d poured it directly into my mouth. (Preferably with his). (I shouldn’t think of that when he’s standing right there looking so self-satisfied).

With the beds in place, the borrowed magic drains back out of my body through my hand. Snow immediately tries to drag us onto the beds, clambering over the footboard and over my pristinely made-up blankets. He hasn’t even taken off his shoes, the animal. I sharply tug him back.

“What?”

“Take your shoes off, you twit.”

He looks down at his feet, as if he’s surprised to see his shoes still on. “Oh.”

He sits on the edge and starts worrying at his laces with his free left hand. I can see he’s struggling but I just watch.

_Simon_

He’s just watching me struggle with my laces and not even offering his free hand to help. I look up at him after several minutes of frustrated huffing, still folded half over myself.

“A little help please?” It came out more like pleading than I had hoped, but it worked and he bent at the waist to reach across to my feet. His face comes startlingly close to mine, but he’s not looking at me right now, so I resolve to focus on my laces. A little bit of jostling and some under-the-breath insults later, my feet are finally free. But now something else seems pressing.

“Um Baz?” I say, as I shift uncomfortably.

“What now, Snow?” He side eyes me, I feel it burning into the side of my face but I refuse to meet his glare.

“I, um, I mean can, uh-“

“Spit it OUT, Snow.”

“I need the bathroom,” I stress. I can feel the moment he freezes next to me. After a tense minute, I bring myself to look up at his face. His jaw is ticking and I can practically see the thoughts whirling around his head. “Baz?”

That seems to jolt him out of his thoughts.

“Right,” he says. “Right.”

We both stand and hesitatingly I step towards the bathroom. I am so grateful we have our own, I could only imagine having to do this in the semi-public bathrooms on the lower floors. How would we explain this? Come to think of it, how are we going to explain this to people tomorrow at breakfast? At the library?

Before I can freak myself out anymore, I carefully put those thoughts into the “things to not think about” list, and save my freak out for what I’m about to do. Namely pee in front of Baz where he can see me.

I have to do it one handed, the other positioned behind me as Baz turns his back. I can feel the weight of my bladder keenly but I can’t do this with him listening. In a desperate whisper I ask him to hum or something. He doesn’t make a comment about it, thank the stars, just starts humming soothingly. It’s enough. I sigh in relief.

Baz has a really nice voice, even if it is just humming. I guess I should have seen that one coming, his voice always sounds nice. He forms his words with careful precision and they melt like chocolate against his tongue. Sometimes he’s just too perfect.

We swap places and, without asking I start to hum too. I sound no where near as nice as he does but it’s noise and I think it helps.

The next challenge is of course putting on our pyjamas. There’s no way for us to get our shirt sleeves over our bound hands without cutting ourselves out. Baz seems to come to the same realisation.

“I am not sleeping in my shirt,” I assert. Baz rolls his eyes at me again. I don’t care what he thinks though, I run hot and I won’t be able to sleep with it on.

“Fine,” he says. “But we’ll have to cut our way out.”

I don’t think I have scissors, and I say as much which seems to amuse Baz.

“Are you a mage or not Snow? Crowley.”

I am just about to remind him of my missing wand when he tugs at my hand. Oh, he wants my magic again. Instead of replying, I gently push my magic at him again. Honestly the first time I did this I wasn’t 100% sure it would work. I just had this idea that I could just… _share_. So I did. And I do it again now, eliciting that beautiful sharp gasp from Baz. His face just seems to light up from within, not looking so pale and drawn.

“ **Cut the ribbon** ” he casts, neatly ripping our shirts along the seams, down the side body and along the sleeve. “We can sew them back on in the morning,” he mutters, mostly to himself. We slip them over our heads one handed then I get started on unbuttoning my trousers.

“Whoa, whoa, Snow what are you doing?” Baz sounds startled and a little breathless. I look over at him and feel my answer catch in my throat. Despite living together for years I have never seen Baz without his shirt on, at least not standing so openly before me as he is now. His smooth alabaster skin stretches unendingly from his throat all the way down to the waistband of his boxers, sticking slightly out from his trousers. He’s well muscled, and looks like he’d be solid to touch. Not that I’m thinking about touching him. I should probably stop staring but as my gaze travels back up it gets caught on his nipples, a light dusting on hair surrounding them.

“My eyes are up here, Snow,” Baz drawls. My gaze snaps up to meet his, and he smirks a little. He doesn’t seem the least it phased by my nakedness, which irks me. Then again I do sleep shirtless a lot. And he did try to stop me from taking off my trousers.

“I’m not sleeping in these trousers,” I tell him. “They’ll be too hot.”

Baz looks uncomfortable at the idea but just hums and looks away. I take off my trousers anyway and notice as his conspicuously stay on. I reach for my cross, fingering at it as I considered whether I should keep it on. But Baz looks wretched enough at the idea of sleeping with me that I decide to take pity on him and carefully hang it over the edge of the bed frame. I see him looking at me but he doesn’t comment.

We navigate our way back to the bed, and it’s difficult to get on the right sides with our hands tied. I end up rolling over him, which makes him squeak in surprise. The noise is so unexpected and so unlike Baz that I start to laugh. He tugs hard on my hand in annoyance which only makes me laugh harder.

“Shut UP, Snow,” he says, but I can see the corner of his mouth turn up.

I do eventually quiet down enough to settle down. I can feel the length of Baz’s arm against mine and it’s wonderfully cool on my skin. I scoot just a little closer so our shoulders overlap and smile a little to myself, feeling my head grow heavy with sleep.

_Baz_

I have no idea how he falls asleep so fast. He’s like a furnace along my side. I would happily die in his fire.

Eventually I fall asleep to the memory of his laugh.

I wake up to a sweltering heat.

Our joined hands are up by our shoulders, fingers laced together. His face is on my pillow, mashed against the join of my neck and shoulder. His other arm is flung across my chest, his left leg wedged firmly between mine and his torso pressed solidly against me. I can feel a trickle of drool down my shoulder blade, which should disgust me, mouth breather that Snow is, but irritatingly I just feel my heart swell a little.

I give myself a moment to regain my composure before giving him a shove.

“Wha – whassappenin – I,” he slurs, looking around in a daze. He uses our joint hands to wipe the spit from his own chin before starting upright in surprise. “Baz! I – uh, I’m sorry.”  
I just glare at him and deliberately reach over to wipe our wet hands on his blanket. I can see him shift a little, just like he did last night. Sighing I drag us both up.

“Come on, Snow.”  
  


_Simon_

I was all over Baz when I woke up. I can’t believe he didn’t take the opportunity to mock me, using him like a teddy bear like that. Not that I would know, I never had one growing up, but he doesn’t know that. Instead he was quiet and lead us through a morning routine, complete with humming when we needed to use the bathroom.

He fixed up our shirts from yesterday with **a stitch in time** , the sleep having given him enough time to replenish his magic. I secretly thought it was a shame because he looked gorgeous lit up with my magic but that was neither here nor there.

But now here we are about to open the door to go down to breakfast when I remember the things I added to my do not think list. What will people think when they see us holding hands?

I turn to Baz. “What do we say when people ask us what this is about?” I ask, lifting our joint hands.

“We could tell them the truth?” he smirks. “That you’re an incompetent excuse of a mage that accidentally bound us in holy matrimony.”  
“You _want_ people to know we’re sort of married now?” I question scathingly, and I can see I’ve got him there.

“Well what other options do we even have? People are going to assume we’re together if we’re walking round holding hands.” He says it with such disgust I can’t help but feel a little offended.

Without thinking, I retort “would that really be such a bad thing?”

“I guess not,” Baz replies quietly, a pensive look crossing his face before he smooths it out to his usually supercilious mask. “We confirm nor deny nothing.”  
“Ok,” I agree quickly because I don’t want the whole school to know how rubbish I am and Baz has offered this olive branch.

_Baz_

We are almost to the breakfast hall when something occurs to me.

“What about Wellbelove?” I ask.

Snow’s stride falters for a second before he carries on walking, his face screwing up.

“Agatha won’t be a problem” he assures me. His words are short and terse, so I drop it.

I didn’t realise things were over between them, and by the way Snow looks like he’s do a terrible impression of me by holding his face in a stoic mask yet keeps swallowing as if keeping tears at bay, it’s clear it was quite a recent break up. Any other day I would have pressed, but the last thing I need today is to be towing a weeping Snow along by the hand through the school grounds.

The dining hall is already half full by the time we get there, and it feels like every eye is on us. Snow makes a bee line for Bunce, who is already sitting there looking vaguely amused. She already has a plate of scones in front of her for Snow, which he takes gratefully and starts scoffing. It’s like he can’t feel the weight of all the stares. Maybe, being the chosen one he’s used to it.

He turns to me after his third horrifically buttery scone and offers me his plate wordlessly. It’s sweet that he thought of me but I refuse to eat in front of him. I can only hope we come to solution soon or I might have to. Or I could just starve.

_Simon_

I’m halfway through my last scone when a hush settles over the hall, like it did when we entered. I look up and see Agatha approaching. My stomach turns. I had hoped I wouldn’t have to deal with this right now.

“Simon!” she sibilated. “What are you doing?!”

“Um,” I mumbled around my scone and shrugged.

“Look I get you’re upset, you know we were never going to work out, but really? _Baz_? You hate Baz, and this isn’t going to make me jealous or whatever.”

For some reason, this made me see red. How did she mange to make everything about her? And it’s not like I couldn’t be with Baz, she and I weren’t together anymore. Under the table I can feel Baz squeezing my hand in silent support. This bolsters me enough to let her know my mind.

“This is none of your business Agatha,” I hissed at her. “You made that abundantly clear to me last night, so who I choose to hold hands with this morning is nothing to do with you.”

She looks like I’ve slapped her. She turns on her heel, hair swishing dramatically behind her, and stalks off. I breath a sigh and finish up my scone, ignoring everyone still staring.

It’s Penny who breaks the silence. “You done Simon? We should get to the library.”

_Baz_

They broke up last night?! No wonder Snow was spoiling for a fight.

We finish up with breakfast quickly after that, or at least Bunce and Snow do. We troop to the library together and make our way to the legal section, where all the marriage ceremonies are listed. The spell **till death do us part** is part of a ceremony that involves magical hand fasting, hence our hands being bound. It’s not meant to last this long. The marriage ceremony is completed when both parties say the phrase. Theoretically I can dissolve this bond right now, but it will bind us in a more permanent way. We wouldn’t be able to marry anyone else in a magical ceremony, or hurt each other ever.

We keep looking. Bunce thinks that as this is an incomplete ceremony we might be able to spell the ceremony to stop with **leave me at the alter** or **got cold feet**. We try it in a quiet corner of the library, but it does nothing.

Next we move on to divorce spells. It’s coming up to lunch by this point and Snow is not reading anymore. I’m also getting hungry, having skipped breakfast. Maybe I could eat a little something without my fangs popping? I know I considered starving earlier but I don’t want to go that way. If I don’t die by Simon’s hand, what even was the point?

Being cousin of the cook had its advantages. Cook Pritchard gave me a charmed medallion which would summon food from the kitchens in case I wanted a snack, so I surreptitiously activated it under the table. Within moments I have a lap of sandwiches. I place them on the table in front of Snow and his beautiful face lights up.

I think I hear him mutter something that sounds suspiciously like I love you into his bread, but that could just as easily be directed at the sandwich as it is at me, but that doesn’t stop my heart from fluttering. Even doing something as mundane as watching him eat in the library makes me feel more alive.

I tear little pieces of bread off with my fingers and stuff them to the back of my mouth, a tried and tested method of eating that doesn’t make my fangs drop. It takes me twice as long to get through half the sandwiches Snow does, but the ache in my stomach has been assuaged for now. Bunce seems to have eaten too, though she didn’t even look up when she did so I have no idea if she was aware she was doing it.

It’s another few hours later when Bunce declares she’s found it. The spell **a mensa et thoro** from the latin used in divorce proceedings should be enough to separate us. She says we have to say it ourselves because only those involved can end the marriage.

I take out my wand and steady it at our hands. I make the mistake of looking up into Snows eyes though just as I say the spell, and I can feel the magic fizzle away. I can’t do it. Magic requires intention and I know in my heart, I don’t mean it. I want this to be real.

_Simon_

The divorce spell doesn’t work.

“You should try it,” Penny insists at me. I look at her with surprise. No way should I do this, I mess up even the simplest of spells.

“Try it,” agrees Baz. That shocks me. Is he really admitting I might be able to do something he can’t? My heart has been feeling all jumpy around him since I woke up this morning, like when he silently supported me at breakfast, and again when he gave me lunch unasked for. Anyone who knows me knows the way to my heart is through my stomach.

I lean down to get my wand from my bag, where it had been since classes yesterday. I place it on our joined hands, repeating the phrase over and over in my head. A mensa et thoro, a mensa et thoro, a mensa et thoro. My hand starts to shake. I can’t do complicated latin magic and last time I cast a spell I got us in this mess.

I startle when Baz’s hand reached up to mine to steady my wand. “It’s alright, Simon,” he murmurs. In the hush between the stacks it feels intimate. I feel my breathing slow, even as my heart continues to race. “You can do this.”  
I take a last, steadying breath and intone “ **a mensa et thoro**.”

The bond starts to violently ripple under the force of my magic. We both hold our breath. After an endless moment the insubstantial ribbon tying our hands shifts and settles just as tightly as before. We release our breaths simultaneously, our heads hanging down. Our foreheads are nearly touching but neither of us makes to move away. Once again it’s Penny who startles us apart.

“You have to feel it, Simon,” she insists. “Come on, again with feeling.”

I try again, this time focusing on the need to pee alone, to just be apart. Nothing.

We alternate doing the spell after that, but it doesn’t work. I think it might be my fault. This day of Baz being nice has shown me how things could be if we put aside our needless rivalry. We’ve been getting on surprisingly well, and having lived together so long we already know how to move around each other. Admittedly in the past I’ve used this knowledge to deliberately press his buttons and get in the way, but I think that’s just so he’ll pay attention to me.

It reminds me of my thought this morning. Would it really be so bad if we were dating? Do I want to date Baz? I wish I could have some privacy for this freak out. Or at least some time alone with Penny so I could freak out at her. Does this make me gay? I allow myself a moment to imagine it. If we were dating, we could wake up every morning cuddled up like we did today, but without the shoving. Maybe Baz would cuddle me back and I could kiss his neck. And I would kiss my way up his face to his lips. I find myself standing here in the library contemplating Baz’s lips. Would they feel as soft as they look, if we were to kiss? Maybe he would be rough with his kisses, an exquisite contrast, his ferocity counterbalanced by the softness of his lips…

“Snow!” I’m startled out of my thoughts by the man himself. He looks exasperated as if he’s been saying my name for a while. “It’s your turn,” he says.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I gripe. “I’m too tired can we not call it a day?”

I expect Baz to protest, say he doesn’t want another day saddled with this ridiculous marriage bond to his nemesis, but his face softens and he murmurs an agreement. Penny has already returned to the books while we tried the divorce spell, but she looks up as we walk past.

“We’re calling it a day, Bunce,” Baz says. “Thanks for your help but you don’t have to carry on right now, it’s time for dinner.”

Penny looks startled by this but she agrees quickly and follows us to the dining hall. Dinner is quiet, each of us caught up in our own thoughts. I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep with Baz again tonight, having been plagues with the thought of kissing him since the library. It’s ridiculous to think he’ll know. He’s not a mind reader. I hope he’s not a mind reader. I glance at him carefully stuffing tiny morsels of food into the back of his mouth. It doesn’t look like he knows anything. He catches me looking though and a flash of amusement passes across his face before he can smother it. I quickly return to my dinner and resolve not to look at him again if I can help it. He can’t find out I’m the reason the divorce spell didn’t work.

_Baz_

I keep catching him looking at me, especially at my lips.

Could Simon Snow be thinking about kissing me? I think this marriage spell has got me thinking impossible things. He isn’t thinking of kissing me, I’m just projecting. Being so close to him today has brought to the forefront the feelings that I try so hard to supress. Yes I want to kiss him, and yes I want to do it in the library, dammit. I am confident enough in myself to say that, as an academic gay I want to kiss a beautiful boy up against a stack of books. And he was just there, looking up at me from underneath his eyelashes the whole afternoon, and staring at my lips. I have no idea how I’m meant to fall asleep tonight.

After dinner, Snow and I retreat up to Mummer’s Tower. I hear the mutterings around us as we go.

“… _I heard he broke up with Agatha for him…”_

_“…makes sense they’ve been staring at each other in class for years…”_

_“…no wonder he’s at every football match…”_

_“…so lucky they’re roommates, bet they go at it like rabbits…”_

That last one would make me flush if I had drunk any blood recently. As it is I need this bond to be broken soon or I might accidentally eat Snow. Especially now he’s taken his cross off. The fact he did that, unasked, last night had me falling in love with him all over again.

Like last night we get ready for bed, humming and cutting our shirts. I didn’t strictly need Snow’s magic but I am a little low from chanting latin all afternoon so I took it gratefully when he pushed it into my arm. I love the feeling of Simon filling me up. (Not like that). (I wish).

And just like last night we lay side by side, arms flush, staring at the ceiling. I expect Snow to fall asleep quickly again, but he doesn’t. I can practically hear his thoughts churning. He fidgets a little as well and, connected as we are it jostles my whole body.

Eventually I give up the pretence of trying to fall asleep and turn to face him.

“What is it Snow?” I say in a hushed tone. He turns to face me too.

“ I can’t stop thinking,” he whispers back. I chuckle a little at that.

“Must be a new thing for you,” I joke. It lacked the usual bite my insults had but I couldn’t help being soft with Simon here in our joined beds, hands clasped between us. The moonlight washed over his sunshine face, making him glow ethereally, meaning I could see his face twitch in amusement at my words.

“Shut up, Baz,” he exhales. “I just, I’m sorry about today.”

“Why? What are you sorry for?” I run through the events of today but I can’t think of anything stand out he did wrong. Nothing he should apologise for at least.

“I couldn’t do the spell. It’s my fault it didn’t work…” he trails off sadly. Without thinking I place my free hand on his face to force him to look at me, although maybe in the darkness he can’t see me as I can him. That darkness, the thought he couldn’t read the heartbreaking truth across my face made me feel honest.

“No Simon, I’m pretty sure it was my fault.”

“You keep calling me Simon,” he murmurs. “I really like it.”

“Of course that’s what you take from that,” I laugh softly. I can feel his smile under my hand more than I can see it. It’s small and soft. It makes me melt a little further into the mattress.

“Simon,” I breath. I feel him shuffle a little closer, so I do the same. His leg brushes mine. It feels like too much.

“Simon,” I begin again. “Why do you think it was you?”

I don’t want to break this perfect bubble we’ve created, it’s like a spell has been cast over us. But I have to ask. What if, like me, he couldn’t do it because he didn’t want it to end? I secretly hope it to be true. I don’t know what shows on my face but I can see Simon’s eyes flickering over it furtively. I try to relax, smiling a little in a way that I hope makes me look open.

“I – “ he exhales. “I couldn’t do it because I didn’t really want this to end. I like this… truce that we have. I just like hanging out like this, it’s much better than fighting.”

I smile at that. Maybe there is hope.

“I couldn’t do it either,” I confess. “I really like you Simon.”

I feel his head lift under my hand as he moves into my space completely. We’re breathing each others air, noses softly brushing. I close the remaining distance.

His lips are like water after days in the desert. I drink him in, breathing in his heady magical smoke. Then he moves his chin just so, and I am lost.

_Simon_

We’re kissing and it’s like discovering magic all over again. His lips are as soft as I imagined, but also cool and smooth and _delicious_. He tastes of mint toothpaste and a distinct flavour I can only say is Baz, like fire and spice and magic. It was everything I had wanted and more.

“Simon,” he breaths again and it runs through me, making me shudder.

“Baz, I want this forever,” I whisper against his lips, our kisses making me lose my sense of self-preservation. He gasps wildly and his hand moves to tangle his fingers in my hair. I really like the feeling of him tugging against my curls. This outstripped any kisses I had shared with Agatha by miles.

“Yes,” he was gasping. “Yes, you can have me.”

I want both of his hands on me, I want both my hands on him. Without realising it my free hand had reached up to cup his neck, holding him to me.

“Please,” I whimpered against him. “I want this, I want you, just give me my hand.” My tone turned pleading, but if anything it made Baz more insistent, his lips moving relentlessly against my neck like the vampire he is.

He pulls back, cradling my face carefully. His eyes roam my face restlessly, trying to find a hint I didn’t mean it. He won’t find any doubt. I don’t want anything other than him, I haven’t in a long time I think. I’m surprised Agatha and I lasted as long as we did, given I’ve been obsessed with Baz since fifth year. Even longer if I’m honest. I’ve always watched him, always wondered where he was, what he was up to. And now I have the chance to have him forever and it seems like he does too.

He must find what he’s looking for because his face breaks into a beautiful smile, like the sun breaking through the clouds. It takes my breath away even in the darkness of the room. He leans in once more to peck my lips before sitting up.

I follow slowly, hopeful and excited.

He holds our hands between us, and stares deeply into my eyes. His are like liquid silver in the moonlight and I find myself captivated.

“Simon Snow,” he say lowly, voice rough with unspoken emotion. “I love you. And I have for a long time.”

“I love you too,” I interject. I hadn’t really thought about it but as I said it I knew it to be true. I did love him, I feel like I was always going to end up here loving him. It’s what I was made for.

“Simon,” he sighed fondly. “ _My_ chosen one.” I smile at that. “I love you and I will forever. **Till death do us part.** ”

With that the bonds fell away from our hands, dripping away like magical water. With our free hands we reached for each other.

We spent the night wrapped up in each other and when I woke up in the morning he was there, and he would be forever.

_~ The End ~_


End file.
